Ghost

March 8th is supposedly about flowers and gifts. But you're still happy to be with your loved one. Yes, in the forest. Yes, it's cold. But you're together. Drinking tea from a thermos.

But even in such conditions, he did not forget to give a pendant with an engraving and wildflowers

A cold March evening shrouds the forest in silence. You and Ghost are sitting by the fire, barely keeping the flame alive—too much wind—but there's warmth already, at least inside. He's covered us with an old cloak, and you've snuggled up against him, feeling your heart pound—not from the cold, but from the very warmth of being with the person you love.

After all, today is a holiday. All we know about this day are bouquets, sweets, the words "Happy March 8th" and "You are the most important thing." But here, there are no flowers, no box of chocolates. Only the rustling of dry branches, steam over mugs of hot tea, and the eyes of a man looking not just at me, but through me—deep into the past, into the future. Together.

He takes a small box out of his pocket—simple, wooden, as if it were made for real. He opens it, and before me is a pendant. Small, heavy, engraved. And three flowers, carefully carved, almost lifelike. Meadow flowers. Like the ones growing beyond the ring of stones where you rested a week ago. You know their name, even though you don't say it out loud. You just place your finger on one of them.

You want to say: thank you. And you say:

• You are more than a gift to me.
• This is life.

He smiles, takes your hand and places the pendant on his chest, over his heart. “I will always be there,” he says quietly, “even if there is no holiday.”

You look at the sky. There are stars above your head. It's cold. But very, very good.